I did it for you, dumbass
by I-write-hurt-not-comfort
Summary: Elliot decides to finally quit smoking, and Leo gets to deal with an incredibly crabby boyfriend for the next week (for Stoptober 2018)
1. Chapter 1: Part I

**_(A/Ns: is this incredibly self-indulgent because the entire pretext was getting to write smoker Elliot again? absolutely. am i still gonna write it? absolutely. ok so basically i'm posting this in October for 'Stoptober', this thing where people basically quit smoking and uh. yeah. I've had this planned a bazillion years but had to split it up into 3 parts, so this is part 1. updates will be every 10 days._**

 ** _content warnings: smoking, swearing, leo being excessively crude, some wholesome Elleo content_**

 ** _disclaimer: i do not own pandora hearts, or Elliot and leo)_**

* * *

 **Part I**

It had already passed 10pm, and Leo had only _just_ finished working.

He finished his job at 7:30pm, fortunately, meaning any assignments could easily be finished by the time they usually went shopping in the evening. And thankfully, he'd finished his current assignment, and was now briefly proof-reading. The content would be no doubt flawless, however, so all he was really doing was ensuring his handwriting was actually legible; usually it wasn't.

Elliot, on the other hand, had only returned from work at 9:15pm, and was still nose-deep in a textbook.

"Hey," Leo said, snapping the other from his work-induced trance. "Do you have anything you need to get when we go shopping later?"

His line of focus instinctively flitted to the pack of cigarettes across from him, slightly to the left. Wordlessly, he picked it up, and counted the individual cancer sticks in the pack, screwing his face up.

It was a habit he'd unfortunately been trapped in for 5 years now, after being stupid enough to accept the offer of a single cigarette from a random aristocrat when he was only 16. Leo had, undoubtably, caught onto it much faster than his family. It was obvious he wasn't particularly approving, but he'd never tried to convince him to stop. Because, ultimately, _both_ of them knew full well that Elliot was incredibly weak-willed.

It wasn't like he was _proud_ of it or anything though.

"I'm gonna do it."

Leo, dropping the pen, froze instantly, blinked three times, and stared at the other in utter silence for at least six seconds. And then, with a derisive snort, he picked up the pen, closed the textbook, and said, "Ha, no you won't."

The other pinched his eyebrows together, a slight pout tugging at his lips. "Hey! What happened to being supportive?" he whined, sounding more disappointed than annoyed.

"You've tried before several times, and failed miserably each time."

"Y-Yeah, but…" Elliot found himself frowning. "I'm really gonna do it this time!"

Another derisive, sarcastic snort. "Sure."

Marginally, Elliot's frown deepened. He seemed genuinely upset, the silence amplifying that.

"Alright, alright," Leo chuckled, putting the pen down again and folding his arms over his chest, lending Elliot his full attention. (Probably). "I'll play the supportive boyfriend for once. When are you going to start?"

Once again, Elliot's eyes fell on the cigarettes.

As said previously, he'd only returned from work less than an hour ago. And this essay was something he _needed_ to finish for tomorrow, regardless of his own needs. He hadn't even eaten dinner, let alone touched the cigarettes or that goddamn lighter which his hand was practically itching towards.

It might have been a good idea to start now, but Elliot didn't particularly want to go the rest of the night without his usual nicotine fix. Especially since he hadn't smoked in _4 hours_.

"I don't know…" he shrugged, pretending he hadn't been thinking about it in any detail. "Maybe tomorrow?"

Leo, however, saw it, grinning caustically to himself. "Alright. Your call. Are you done yet so we can go shopping?"

"Hm… no…" A dissatisfied frown tugged at his face, as he roughly sorted through the pile of papers in front of him. "Give me half an hour."

"Sure," Leo stood up, stretching. He yawned, pinned an arm behind his back, and then hunched over the chair. "I'll get in the shower now."

Elliot was already too deeply engrossed into the essay to hear him.

But the moment Leo left, he halted, dropping the pen and picking up the pack of cigarettes again. The fact that he craved one so badly infuriated him.

"Tch, stupid…"

In the heat of the moment, he closed the pack, threw it across the room, and tried to distract himself from how badly he needed one.

* * *

It took about 20 minutes for Leo to return from the shower, but when he did, it came in the form of sneaking into the living room, and instantly laying eyes on the pack of cigarettes in the centre of the room.

Grinning to himself, Leo crept over, picking them up and examining them for a moment.

"Give me two more sentences!" Elliot called from the kitchen, hastily scribbling down the last few lines of the essay.

Then, with a visible stretch, he stood up, and locked eyes on Leo.

Well, more importantly, the cigarettes.

His blood ran _cold_ at the thought of _Leo_ having control over his habit. He internally facepalmed, but tried not to stress; he did _not_ need any more incentive to want to light up right now.

"Why don't we try a new tactic?" Leo said, chuckling to himself as he counted the cigarettes left and then proceeded to place them in his back pocket. "I'll keep hold of these, and if you want one, you beg."

"Jeez, keep your kinks in the bedroom…" Elliot muttered, but was quite grateful, really. Leo might be merciless, and borderline sadistic, but at least it might help to keep him in control.

Leo grinned, and chuckled. Sadistically – as expected. "Do you want one now?"

Elliot so desperately wanted to say yes. But ultimately, if he was expecting to be able to just go cold turkey tomorrow, he would need to get used to this: this incessant craving in the pit of his stomach which screamed his need to _smoke_. "Tch, no…"

"Good." Leo's smile turned sinister, as he turned towards the door and grabbed his keys from the mantlepiece. "You weren't getting one anyway."

Figures.

The two walked out of their apartment block in total silence, Elliot padding along at least two metres behind Leo. Of course, the noirette noticed, but chose to preserve the silence as they climbed into the car, Leo opting to drive despite being beyond exhausted.

Elliot, on the other hand, was on edge, to say the least. And Leo's dodgy driving of speeding over speed bumps and constantly overtaking other cars wasn't the most settling thing ever.

"Stop tapping your foot," Leo said, swerving slightly as they reached the roundabout.

Subconsciously, Elliot's grip around the door handle tightened. Oh, and he hadn't even realised he was tapping his foot. "Oh, s-sorry…"

Leo scanned the other up and down for a few moments. "When was you last cigarette?"

"Like… in my break, just before 6?" Elliot answered, uneasily. That thought _alone_ put him even more on edge.

"Okay, so… four and a half hours," Leo mentally calculated, and then shrugged. "So you're not doing that badly then."

Needless to say, Elliot wasn't too convinced.

The drive to the supermarket from where their apartment block was took no longer than 15 minutes. They started shopping at about 10:40pm, in the end, but because Leo spent most of the time intentionally teasing Elliot, they weren't finished until about quarter past 11.

… at which point it had been 5 hours since his last cigarette, and he was really, _really_ starting to feel it.

By the time they'd loaded the car up with all the groceries, Leo was more or less nodding off against Elliot's shoulder, yawning every ten seconds.

"There's no way in hell you're driving home like that," Elliot said bluntly, promptly plucking the car keys from the noirette's palm. "I'll drive."

"No," Leo protested weakly, but even in his sleep-deprived state, he successfully grabbed the keys back. "Just let me get coffee."

Elliot sighed internally at the memories of every goddamn time Leo consumed anything caffeinated. But before he could stop him, the other had already started making his way to the Starbucks attached to the supermarket, gesturing for Elliot to follow once he got halfway there.

Fortunately, it was still spring, so it was just about warm enough for them to sit outside. A slightly disappointed expression morphed onto Elliot's face as he sat down opposite Leo, and glanced down at the tea he'd bought. Whilst Leo was busy getting hyper off coffee, _he_ was stuck with the one drink which wouldn't make him want to light up.

Leo seemed to catch on, and spent a good few seconds staring blankly at Elliot. Then, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and – simultaneously – reached into his pocket, and pulled out the pack of cigarettes. Leisurely, he placed them in the centre of the table, grinning discreetly but mischievously at Elliot.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" Elliot scoffed.

"Nothing in particular," Leo said idly. "Just watching what you do."

Elliot snarled under his breath, hesitated for a moment, and then – tentatively – leaned forward to pick up the pack of cigarettes. Slowly, he slid one out of the pack, placing it back in the centre of the table. Then, he began to search his pockets for a lighter, but halted halfway when he spotted Leo snickering oh-so-innocently to himself in his peripheral vision.

"Dammit Leo, did you take my lighter again?"

"Maybe," Leo chuckled, flashing the other a rather amused grin. Elliot, on the other hand, responded with an annoyed glare, at which point he threw his arms up, and handed Elliot the lighter.

With ease, Elliot lifted a hand to shield the flame from the wind as he lit the cigarette. And once it was lit, he drew in a deep breath, the rush of nicotine to his brain instantly lessening the craving. He spun around, the other now to the left of him. He very rarely smoked around Leo, let alone directly in front of him. So, although he appeared unfazed, Elliot didn't particularly fancy the idea of giving his boyfriend lung cancer.

When he exhaled the smoke the second time, with a sigh of relief, Leo spoke once again. "Hm, yep. You're gonna struggle."

"Thanks for the support, asshole."

"Fine, fine. I'll play along seriously now," Leo rolled his eyes, picking up the cigarettes again. "How many do you smoke at the moment, in a day?"

"Tch, I don't count…" Elliot scoffed, dragging on the cigarette before tapping the ash off the side of the bench. "Maybe… six?"

Leo snorted caustically. "Higher."

"Like, sev-"

"Nope, still higher."

"N-"

"Hm, no," Leo cut him off again. He was clearly enjoying this more. "A little higher~"

"Alright, fine! Ten!" Elliot blurted out, and then shrank back into a defensive hunch over.

"That's more like it." Bitterly, Leo smiled at him. Then, he pulled another cigarette out of the pack, and placed it in front of Elliot. "That's your last one of today. I don't care when you smoke it, as long as it's before you sleep. Because I know what you're like. If you've gone five hours without, you're gonna want it."

Wordlessly, Elliot nodded, albeit reluctantly, and pocketed his last cigarette of the day.

"Alright. Now, there's…" Leo paused to count them, yet again, "five left. Tomorrow, you get two. The day after, one. And then none."

"I wanted to go cold turkey…" Elliot countered weakly under his breath, staring down in contemplation at the cigarette. He was bored of this now. He wanted to quit. And he would sure as hell do it this time.

"Fufu, you'll thank me later." Leo's laugh was evil.

"Wait," Elliot interjected, along with a quick drag on the cigarette. "What about the… the other two?"

"Hm… let's say… one of them you can have if you absolutely have to; that one, you _do_ beg for. A back up, shall we say? And the other one is your sign of giving up."

"Alright," Elliot sucked the life out of the cigarette and snuffed it out in the ashtray. "Deal."

"Good," Leo downed the rest of the coffee. A bad idea, Elliot thought. "Shall we go now?"

Briefly – only _briefly_ – Elliot considered lighting the second cigarette. But that would just be poor preparation for tomorrow. So instead, he simply followed Leo back to the car.

Shit. How the _hell_ was he going to cut down from _ten_ to _two_?!

Elliot was so distracted by that one, single thought that he didn't get the chance to pay attention to Leo's manic, caffeine-fuelled drive home.

Eventually, they made it back to their apartment in one piece, the two carrying the shopping up the stairs in a thick silence. It was obvious that Leo knew something was up with Elliot, but strangely, he didn't speak up.

Was he worried too?

To lengthen the silence, Elliot and Leo began unpacked shopping without saying a word to each other. Right up until they were finished at least, when Leo broke that silence. "Oh my god, there's no _chance_ I'm going to be able to sleep."

"I told you coffee at midnight was a dumb idea…"

"Oh well. You can stay up with me?" Leo chuckled, dragging a finger down Elliot's arm and wiggling his eyebrows at him.

"I want to sleep," Elliot deadpanned, as he threw aside the shopping bags and pulled the last cigarette out from his pocket. "Go and get ready for bed. And give me the lighter."

"And what do I get for that?" Leo held it out to him nonetheless.

"Wait and see, dumbass," Elliot grunted, nudging him towards their bedroom as he stepped out onto the balcony, stuck the cigarette between his lips, and lit it. The night breeze made him shiver, the smoke rising from the cigarette hardly comforting him all that much.

Yes, he really _was_ bored of this process at this point. There was nothing enticing about it, nor was there ever anything new about it.

Once the cigarette had burnt away, Elliot snuffed it out in the ashtray, turned on his heel, and went back inside without looking back at it.

He would get through this. He had backup, anyway. And – though possibly not a _good_ thing – he had Leo on his side, as well.

Speaking of Leo, the noirette was already in bed reading by the time Elliot returned from the bathroom. And when Elliot caught a glimpse of the book cover as he clambered into bed, it became inherently obvious what Leo wanted.

"Stop reading erotica whenever you want sex," Elliot said bluntly, his eyebrows furrowing further when Leo just laughed.

"Get the hint, then," Leo smirked, placed the book down, and shuffled closer to the other.

"Fine," Elliot sighed, and the moment Leo's lips were on his, he immediately felt himself grow aroused, melting into the embrace and wanting this more than Leo.

With the hand not preoccupied, Elliot scrambled for the light switch, plunging them into darkness and pulling the covers over the two of them. Then, Leo pulled away, leaning his head on Elliot's chest as his hand crept down to his crotch. In a whisper, he said, "I hope you succeed this time."

"Me too," Elliot answered back, trying to focus on where Leo's hand was rather than the problem at hand. (No pun intended). "I'm… bored of smoking now. It's a stupid habit."

"I was more thinking about the fact you taste like an ashtray, but sure," Leo chuckled.

"Well… I'm doing it for you, dumbass." Then, slightly put-off, Elliot frowned. "You think I'll get through it, right?"

"Elliot your sex talk is getting worse. Just… don't talk," Leo interjected bluntly, keeping his hand right where it was in Elliot's pants and placing his lips back on the other's. "Let me help."

Once again, Elliot directed all his attention to Leo, and eventually began to find that his thoughts of doubt gradually dissipated. That, and Leo was clearly quite horny right now.

Well, at least if had Leo in this with him, he might just about be okay.


	2. Chapter 2: Part II

_**(A/Ns: i bring ye more Elleo content. this was so funny to write because i got to write domestic Elleo but also super sad because Elliot bby he just needs some help, someone give him some love because, when im the one writing the fics here, it ain't gonna be me giving the love. sorry i don't make the rules. also shoutout to nawnomschuff for giving me the German translations!**_

 _ **content warnings: smoking, quitting smoking, cigarette withdrawal, swearing, Leo making jokes about his dick.**_

 ** _please drop a review if you get the chance!_**

 ** _disclaimer: i do not own pandora hearts)_**

* * *

 **Part II**

The next morning came around considerably faster than Elliot would have preferred.

But nonetheless, regardless of the changes in his life, he insisted on going about things as he usually did. He would _not_ let something this trivial get in the way of his life.

Each morning, he would wake up at 7am sharp, and go for a run. Leo had the worst stamina in the world, so obviously, had never once joined him. And Elliot wasn't the world's greatest fan of sport or anything, but he sure as hell wanted to stay as healthy as possible. Minus the fact he was sucking smoke into his lungs on a daily basis. He tended to ignore that _minor_ detail.

Waking up wasn't difficult, and it was no problem dragging himself out of bed (despite 7 hours of sleep – well, more like 6 and a half, after Leo had kept him up).

The problem arose when he returned 45 minutes later, staggering back into the apartment, breathless and tired and struggling to catch his breath. Nothing about this was new, though.

Until he reached a hand out to the kitchen counter where he usually left-

" _Shit_ ," Elliot hissed, retracting his hand instantly as a craving filled him.

It'd been 8 hours since his last nicotine fix, and this duration of cessation was something he was not used to. _Particularly_ when he had yet to regulate his breathing, and every morning he was used to correcting that with a goddamn smoke.

Maybe he could wake Leo up?

No, it was only one cigarette, and _nothing_ – and he meant _nothing_ – was worth waking Leo up for. Leo didn't wake up for another 15 minutes, and Elliot knew full well he'd be slaughtered if he disturbed his slumber before necessary.

So, instead of giving into the craving, he simply bit it down, clenched his fits, and proceeded straight to the shower.

By the time he was finished in the shower, dried his hair, and got dressed, the urge to smoke was long gone, thankfully, and he was admittedly surprised to enter the kitchen to the smell of _actual_ food. Because, Leo very, _very_ rarely bothered to make them breakfast. He was a good cook, but he was lazy.

"Good morning," Leo greeted, serving up their breakfast. And at first, Elliot was considerably put-off by the normal greeting.

It wasn't until he saw their breakfast – penis shaped pancakes – that it made sense. Leo _always_ made him breakfast after sex.

"You are just crude," Elliot deadpanned, kissing him on the forehead nevertheless before dropping down at the table.

"I thought you'd appreciate it," Leo grinned. He was evidently quite proud of himself. "Hm… you always liked dick-shaped things in your mouth."

Elliot wasn't as impressed, his nonchalant, slightly disgusted gaze trailing up from his phone to Leo. "Are you talking about the cigarettes, or your junk?"

"I would say both, but you know _exactly_ what I mean," Leo snickered to himself, placing the plate down in front of Elliot. "Eat up."

Wordlessly, the two started eating. However, undoubtably, it only took a couple of minutes for Leo to spot that Elliot wasn't eating anything, but was rather picking at his food with the fork.

"You're not hungry?" Leo questioned, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"You know," Elliot said, his tone still level, but a tad revolted. "I'd probably have a better appetite if my breakfast _wasn't_ penis shaped."

"Don't be ridiculous. You always finish," Leo chuckled. But then, his smile dropped, as he laid down the fork at the side of his plate, stood up, and began clearing the kitchen. "I thought your appetite was supposed to increase."

"Hm. So did I," Elliot hummed in agreement, picking up his phone and scrolling through his emails.

This was bearable. Sure, if someone actually _gave_ him a cigarette, he'd light it in an instant. But there were no incessant cravings, and there was no nagging voice at the back of his mind telling him to smoke.

If this was as bad as things got, then he'd be okay.

Until he saw the email for their literature lecturer, that was. "You have _got_ to be joking me…"

"What?" Leo spoke up from the sink.

"Our afternoon lectures were merged into one three-hour exam skills lecture," he sighed, face-planting the table. " _Now_ , of all days."

"You know…" Leo began to slyly point out. "You _do_ still have those two cigarettes…"

"Yeah…" Elliot deadpanned. His words were muffled by the table. "I think I'll need them…"

* * *

By some miracle, Leo had to note, Elliot hadn't been particularly irascible given the circumstances. For the morning, he'd been _reasonable_ to be around. Until the afternoon lecture, that was.

On a normal day, whenever they were scheduled 3-hour lectures, Elliot would get sour and restless for the last hour. But _this_ was (expectedly) another level. Because, in three hours, only a few lines of writing had made their way onto Elliot's page. The pen, rather than being used to write with, was effectively being smoked, or repeatedly tapped against the ledge in front of them. Leo wanted to point out how _bloody irritating_ that was, but given Elliot's current predicament, he simply drew in a deep breath, bit it down, and put it past him.

Currently, it was just reaching 3pm, the time they finished most days.

And, undoubtedly, at that exact moment, Elliot's phone started vibrating audibly in his pocket.

"Shit," Elliot hissed, slumping back in the seat and pulling his phone out of his pocket under the ledge. Sure enough, it was his sister, Vanessa, trying to call him. "I'm gonna have to tell her to call me back in half an hour."

For the last three years he'd been at university, Vanessa would call him to check on him every single day the moment his last lecture finished. Most days, at least. And Elliot had not once had that conversation without a cigarette in his hand.

"Have you written anything at all?" Leo whispered, scribbling down whatever the lecturer was talking about, illegibly as usual.

"No," Elliot grunted bluntly, resuming the tapping of his pen and exhaling a heavy sigh. " _Shit_. I still have to work after this. Fuck."

Briefly, Leo scanned in him and down, and then sighed internally. Under his breath, so that no one else heard them, he asked, "Do you want one for after this?"

Elliot, sighing heavily, slumped forward and face planting the ledge. With all the energy he could muster up, he lifted himself back up again, staring sternly at the floor.

He wanted to say no. He needed to be resilient. But at the same time, he just itched for a cigarette, and saying no was something he couldn't bring himself to do.

Just one. It was just one, and Elliot had to repeatedly remind himself that he'd already cut down a significant amount. He was doing well, he told himself.

"Alright, yes!" he blurted out, extending a hand as the other passed him a cigarette under the ledge.

And from the way his hand clenched around the singular white stick, Leo could tell that, in that moment, Elliot genuinely needed it.

The next half an hour went painfully slow for both of them. Leo was bored out of his mind (none of this was new to them), and Elliot had done nothing except continue to smoke his pen, right up until the lecturer _finally_ began to finish. Once he was done, everyone stood up at once with a strangely in-sync sigh of relief.

Technically speaking, Elliot and Leo didn't really have time to be waiting around, especially when Leo was supposed to start work at 3:30pm, but when Elliot made a beeline for the benches outside the lecture theatre where he usually lit up, something told Leo he'd have to call in slightly later.

Unfortunately, before they could even make to the benches, Elliot's phone began vibrating in his pocket again. Clearly Vanessa had taken "call back at 3:30" quite literally. He left it ringing right up until the cigarette was between his teeth, holding a hand out to Leo for the lighter as he picked it up.

The sound of her voice yelling at him down the phone was distinctly audible, despite the fact it wasn't on speaker. And this was only amplified when he pulled the hand holding the phone away from his ear and up to the tip of the cigarette to shield the flame.

"Yes, yes, I'm here!" he said, quite aggressively, as he turned away from Leo and took the first drag of the cigarette. "Tur mir leid." [Sorry.]

Oh, and that was another thing.

Elliot's family were of German descent. Obviously, he and his siblings had grown up in the UK, and had spoken English for most of their life. But because of this, his parents had taught him German from a very young age, and subsequently, Elliot and all his siblings spoke fluent German.

"Nein, alles ist gut, ich versprech's dir." [No, nothing's wrong. I promise.]

 _That_ meant that, every single day, when Vanessa called him, they spoke to each other in German.

"Hör auf mich das zu fragen! Aber… wie geht es den dir… so?" [Stop asking me that! Just… how have you been?]

Leo didn't know a word of German.

"Nein ich vermeide es nicht, dir zu antworten! Mir geht es gut, glaub mir." [I'm not avoiding the question! I'm fine, trust me.]

And it infuriated him.

"Ja, ich din eh schon zu spat. Ich kann nicht dauernd mir dir reden, Vanessa. Willst du noch irgendwas aderes von mir? _Ohne_ mich anzuschreien?" [Yes, I'm already late. I can't talk to you forever, Vanessa. Is there anything else you wanted? _Without_ yelling at me?]

But luckily, given the circumstances of today, he simply bit it down. Elliot had never been one for secret keeping, and thankfully, the conversation was over fairly quickly.

From then on, the two stood in total silence, Leo checking the time every minute whilst waiting impatiently for Elliot to finish. Which, after eight or so minutes, he did, snuffing out the cigarette and then proceeding to the car park.

Leo followed promptly. "What was that about, then?"

"Nothing in particular," Elliot grunted, feeling significantly less hateful at the world and everyone in it after getting that quick nicotine fix. "She worries, you know?"

* * *

It was already past 9pm, and Leo was starting to grow concerned.

Elliot was almost always home by now; usually telling him off for not making dinner, but home, nonetheless. Which is why today, for once, Leo actually put his book down, and made food.

He trusted Elliot, though. He trusted him enough not to have gone out and bought a new pack of cigarettes.

And just then, as that thought flashed across his mind once again, his phone buzzed from across the counter, Elliot's contact name flashing – Leo always chuckled to himself at that – along with a new message.

 ** _[From Disaster Gay, 21:38]  
_** _On my way home now. Some asshole was late and they didn't let me go._

Leo sighed, and laughed again. Elliot had never liked his colleagues, but today, that dislike would surely be exacerbated. And after reading that message, Leo could just _tell_ he was mid-craving.

He had only one question; might as well be blunt.

 ** _[To Disaster Gay, 21:39]  
_** _you didn't smoke, right?_

 ** _[From Disaster Gay, 21:39]  
_** _What the hell? No_

There was a short pause between that message and the next.

 ** _[From Disaster Gay, 21:42]  
_** _Fuck it. I'll need to soon._

There it was. Mid-craving, definitely.

Another 10 minutes passed before Elliot finally returned home, kicking the door open and dumping the keys on the mantlepiece with a side of aggression which wasn't really necessary, Leo noted mentally. Then, after dropping the rest of his belongings on the sofa, the heavy footsteps loudened continuously until they reached the kitchen.

Leo braced himself, and resumed cooking, seemingly unfazed. "You're h-"

"Give me one," Elliot demanded, the edge of desperation in his tone not serving as much to convince Leo. "I don't care if it's my last one today. I still rightfully have it, so give it-!"

"Nope," Leo refused bluntly.

Elliot blinked at him multiple times. " _What_?" Did you not hear me?!"

"Hm, I heard you," Leo said, avoiding eye contact as he spun around to the kitchen counter and served dinner. "And I replied as it was. I just made dinner, see? Eat dinner first, and if you still want the cigarette afterwards, then I'll give it to you."

Folding his arms stubbornly over his chest, Elliot glanced down momentarily, furrowed his eyebrows, and swallowed down the craving. "Tch, fine!"

Leo smiled bitterly, and placed the food on the table. "Good."

The two, sure enough, ate in total silence, Elliot eating faster than Leo had even seen. Which was strange, considering the fact they were students, and had more or less become accustomed to a life of being hungry.

Less than five minutes later, he'd finished, picking up his phone and repeatedly drumming his fingers against the table. Waiting impatiently for Leo to be finished, it seemed. Leo, snickering internally, decided to take the risk of pushing the other's buttons, and proceeded to finish eating at a painfully slow speed.

Once he was done, he glanced up, and caught Elliot's gaze. A heaviness lingered over them for a few moments, until Leo stuck a hand in his pocket, shuffling through it. Then, he pulled out and held up a single cigarette, along with the lighter.

In one swift movement, Elliot stood up, grabbed the cigarette, and dove for outside.

Leo, still sitting at the table, tilted his head slightly, chuckling discreetly to himself. "Ah, Elliot. I do wonder how you'll get through tomorrow."

* * *

He made it through Wednesday, albeit barely.

 _Barely_.

Although, if Leo hadn't woken up to an empty bed halfway through the night (however at that time it would be better considered early Thursday morning), he probably would've said they got through it easily enough.

As expected, he'd opted to smoke the one cigarette he had that day after yet another full day of lectures, lighting up with such urgency the moment his sister tried calling him. And somehow, he'd been decent after work, as well, after what was presumably a low-stress shift. Of course, he'd been irritable as _hell_ , but the cravings had yet to get the better of him.

Tonight, unfortunately, is where that seemed to end.

Leo wasn't surprised he'd woken up. He was used to being around Elliot 24/7, even if they bickered a lot. That included the fact they'd slept in the same bed for the entirety of their student years, so it really wasn't much of a shock that Elliot's absence had interrupted his slumber.

Groggily, he pulled himself into a sitting up position. He blinked, groping blindly for his glasses on the bedside table, before focusing his vision.

The bathroom door was bolted shut, but the light was on.

"Elliot?" Leo called.

There was no response, initially.

Then, the toilet flushed, the taps turned on, and eventually, the lock unclicked. When Elliot stepped out, flicking the light off, he looked deathly, his eyes bloodshot and weighed down by visible bags.

"Withdrawal is becoming gross now," he deadpanned, burying his palms in his eyes and collapsing onto the bed beside Leo. His tone audibly exhausted, he added a second comment under his breath, and he buried himself in the covers and screwed his eyes shut. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

Internally, Leo sighed. This was hard on him; obviously. His body was used to a generous amount of nicotine input every day at regular, set times, and he'd just kicked it to the curb. Of _course_ he'd be struggling.

But that didn't settle any of the noirette's worries.

Elliot had never been one to ask for help, and Leo had no idea how he was really handling this – _if_ he was even handling it.

"You know…" Leo muttered idly, shuffling closer to the other in the bed. He only seemed to be a minor irritation to Elliot, fortunately. "You do still have one left."

"I don't want to smoke, okay?" Elliot spat. He lied. It was such a blatant lie. All he wanted to do was have a _goddamn smoke_. But he was determined; stupidly so. He was _not_ giving in. "I want to _sleep_."

"Good," Leo's tone grew softer.

And the moment his fingers began to delicately brush through his hair, Elliot immediately felt himself calm down. His teetering nerves settled remotely, but it was enough for his eyes to fall shut.

"You're doing well," Leo said calmly, continuing to rake his fingers tenderly through the other's matted, midnight hair.

"Don't patronise me," Elliot protested weakly.

"Sure," Leo smirked, and carried on as he was. The light trembling which seemed so prominent in Elliot a few moments ago was hardly noticeable now, his heartbeat and breathing evening out mostly.

And within ten minutes, the two of them fell back asleep.

* * *

Somehow, Elliot got through yet another day of lectures without murdering anyone. Which, considering is temper this morning – a rainy, cold, Thursday morning, after waking up at several times the previous night – genuinely impressed Leo.

The mornings were always going to be one of the hardest parts of the day. He'd be sleep deprived, grumpy, and desperately in need of a cigarette, particularly when this was day three. And this morning was by far the worst, the two having argued over a ridiculous number of things. The amount of times Elliot had gotten stressed, and Leo had thrown something at him for being stubborn, was innumerable. But Elliot was determined; incredibly stressed. So, despite his foul mood, he would get through the multiple 10-minute cravings per hour, and come out of them even more bitter and irascible.

Mornings weren't the _most_ difficult part of the day, though.

No, by _far_ , the biggest obstacle would be bang on 3pm, when _every single day_ his sister would call him, and _every single day_ he'd smoke his way through that conversation.

It was obvious, as well, considering the fact Leo found Elliot at the end of the day on the opposite side of the courtyard to the smokers' area, with one hand tucked under his elbow. His focus, seemingly aimed at shuffling stones around with his feet, was anything _but_ dedicated to his sister, the occasional dismissive grunt being the only response he gave.

He was restless, irritable, and evidently mid-craving.

Instead of telling him to hurry up, Leo simply leant against the fence beside him, waved at Elliot briefly, and pulled his phone out. Eavesdropping on their conversation would've most likely been his first priority, but as said before, their entire conversation was in German; that wasn't an option.

After another couple of minutes of nonchalant, pissed-off, and fed-up grunts and hums, Elliot seemingly picked up the conversation again. "Noch irgendwas anderes, was du willst? Leo wartet auf mich." [Is there anything else you wanted? Leo is waiting for me.]

Leo heard his name.

"Wir _arbeiten,_ Vanessa. Wir brauchen _Geld_ , oder hast du das irgendwie vergessen?" [We _work_ , Vanessa. We need _money,_ remember?]

His words were bitter, and Leo rolled his eyes internally. Chances were this would turn into yet another argument; Elliot's twenty-third argument of the day, that would be.

"Ja- warte, _nein_. Nein. Nicht mehr." [Yes- wait, _no_. No. Not anymore.]

There was a brief pause.

"Ich hab aufgehört." [I quit.]

Had she figured something was up?

"Ja, es tut mir leid. Es tut mir leid dass ich das überhaupt angefangen habe. Ich werde es nicht wieder tun, ich versprech's." [Yes, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for starting. I won't do it again, I promise.]

Took her long enough, Leo thought.

"Ich weiß, ich weiß. Ich hasse mich auch." [I know, I know. I hate myself too.]

Another pause.

"Ja, ich weiß dass das nicht ist was du gemeint hast! Schau, es tut mir leid, okay? Ich suss jetzt wirklich gehen." [Yes, I know that's not what you meant! Look, I'm sorry, okay? But I need to go now.]

His tone shifted to almost… regretful, but before Leo could question it, he hung up on his sister, shoved the phone in his pocket, and ushered Leo away as they route-marched to their car.

That lasted a minute.

"I…" he stuttered, halting in his tracks and turning to Leo. But he didn't make eye contact. "I still have that last cigarette, right?"

"Mhm," Leo hummed, stopping with the other. "You want it?"

Elliot seemed reluctant to answer at first. His self-control was really faltering now, the urge to say yes or even go out and buy his own pack and just _give_ up being overwhelming. All he wanted to do was just _smoke_. It'd been three days already, couldn't he give in and say he failed again?

However, instead, he internally compromised with his craving, nodding discreetly as he said, "Half. I'll… smoke half, and then… that's it."

"Suit yourself," Leo shrugged, sticking a hand in his jacket pocket and handing Elliot the lighter and cigarette. The last cigarette he'd ever smoke.

Elliot snatched the stick off the other and lit up in a split second. The nicotine which coursed through his veins was hardly enough to satisfy the anxiety and irritability and total restlessness, but it was enough to stop him punching someone for the time being. And hopefully, it would be enough to get him through five hours of work.

The two continued walking to the car in total silence, a heavy sense of awkwardness lingering over them like the cloud of smoke from the cigarette. All they'd done is needlessly bicker, and he _still_ hadn't fully quit?

As expected, once they reached the car, and Elliot had smoked through has the cigarette, he did as he'd initially declared, dropping it onto the ground and grinding it out with the heel of his shoe. Then, once he'd climbed into the car and dropped down into the driver's seat, he knocked his head onto the steering wheel, exhaled exhaustedly, before pulling the car into reverse and beginning to drive like driving some kind of distraction.

He was already restless. Half a cigarette didn't make up for 24 hours of cessation, evidently.

How the _hell_ would he _ever_ get through tomorrow, cutting down to _nothing_? Well, nothing but his self-restraint, which he'd now discovered was significantly weaker than his determination.

Leo was clearly thinking the same thing. "Why don't you get tomorrow off work?"

"It's Friday night. It'll be too busy," Elliot sighed, groaned, and frowned in response. Yep, he was royally _screwed_.

"Cut out some of your triggers," Leo said. "What are they?"

"Life."

"Try again."

"My sister. Fuck. I'll just tell her not to call me."

Leo paused for a few seconds. "What was she asking you?"

"She knows I've quit, that's for sure…" Elliot deadpanned with an audible huff. " _Shit,_ she'd kill me if I failed."

"Well then," Leo couldn't bite back the teasing grin, as he snickered. "Looks like you're going to have to try a bit harder then. And if you make it, I might treat you."

For the first time in three days, Elliot cracked a smile. The next few days might be utter hell, but at _least_ he had Leo.

He'd never say it, but sometimes, he didn't really appreciate him enough.


	3. Chapter 3: Part III

_**(A/Ns: woah, i'm surprised i actually finished this! it feels good considering I've had this planned since March now. but i would like to take this opportunity to just say that quitting smoking is not an easy thing to go through. regardless of a person's reason for starting, they deserve all the help you can give them. and to anyone reading this who perhaps is going to quit smoking, i wish you the best of luck and hope you succeed!**_

 _ **thank you for reading up to here! please drop a review if you can! :3**_

 _ **content warnings: smoking, quitting smoking, withdrawal, swearing, references to sex, Elliot x Leo**_

 _ **disclaimer: i do not own Pandora hearts)**_

* * *

 **Part III**

Grumpy didn't even _begin_ to describe Elliot's mood on day four.

Once again, their morning had been filled with more bickering. Bickering, and arguments which were ultimately pointless but still continued for a good 10 minutes, at the very least. Oh, and more throwing of stuff. A _lot_ of throwing.

Fortunately (for Leo), they didn't share any lectures on Fridays, so he didn't have to deal with Elliot until after school. And, as he'd suggested yesterday, Elliot had finally told his sisters not to call him. Thus, the two actually made it to work on time, and Elliot went to his work only a tiny bit irritated.

After work, however…

Once again, it was half an hour after Elliot was supposed to have left work, and Leo had yet to hear from him. And this time, he was simply stretched out on the sofa reading, rather than putting his time to use and making dinner.

He should have, really, because if Elliot was held behind because of one of his colleagues, then the _last_ thing he'd want to do when he returned home on a Friday night would be to make dinner. But… Leo was feeling lazy. (Plus, provoking Elliot was always entertaining; that he couldn't deny. Until he lost his temper, at least.)

As if on cue, however, at the moment, the door clicked open. The noise it made when it was kicked open into the adjacent wall accurately represented the frustration of the person behind it, followed up consistently by angry footsteps storming past the threshold into their apartment.

"Welcome home," Leo snickered, glancing up from his book to find a very irascible Elliot pacing back and forth around the living room before promptly averting his focus back to his book.

A frown tugging at his lips, Elliot shot a glare at Leo. _Keep cool_ , he told himself. Another argument would only exacerbate his stress. "Did you make dinner?"

"No."

"Great," Elliot grunted, pacing for a few more moments until he spun on his heel, threw his arms up, and headed straight for the kitchen.

Leo rolled his eyes. The stress was really getting to him now.

In all fairness, he _had_ cut down to none. And Leo would never say it, but he was genuinely impressed with Elliot's progress. Dare he say proud?

"Leo! Get your ass in here!"

No, he daren't.

Mentally, Leo braced himself for Elliot's foul mood. If the aggression in his tone was anything to go by, this would be a messy encounter. Taking his time, the noirette placed his book down reluctantly on the coffee table, and then peeled himself off the sofa. Sauntering over to where Elliot was, he physically held his breath when he passed the threshold into the kitchen, folding his arms over and staring at the other.

On the plus side, Elliot had started cooking, so at the very least they'd get food tonight. On the downside, however, the glare he'd now directed at Leo was not pretty.

"We've run out of aspirin."

Oh, and that was another thing: Elliot had practically lived off aspirin the entire day.

Clueless, Leo blinked at him. "And?"

"Well… go get more!" he demanded, pointlessly flailing his arms at the other.

"Elliot, there's no pharmacies open at this time," Leo said bluntly.

"I don't care! Just… go to the supermarket! It's Friday, it doesn't close until 10:30!"

"I am not driving all the way there to get you aspirin," he blatantly refused. "Just try paracetamol or something."

"Paracetamol doesn't do shit!" Elliot yelled, turning back to the oven and drawing in a deep breath. He tried so desperately not to stress. Stress would only exacerbate the incessant craving he was fighting through right at that moment. "Look, please? I'm running on zero hours of sleep here and my head feels like someone smashed a brick into it! I'm hungry and tired and I just need a goddamn cigarette! So _please_ , Leo, can you go and get me some aspirin?!"

Stunned into speechlessness, Leo was unsure how to respond to that little outburst.

Part of him wanted to retaliate at the other for losing his temper with him. But, ultimately, he knew how hard Elliot was trying to push through this seemingly endless period of suffering.

"Alright, fine," Leo threw his arms up in defeat, grabbing the keys off the counter and spinning on his heel.

"Thank you," Elliot exhaled, and then reverted his focus back to cooking. His stress and pent-up tension radiated from his presence, making it painfully obvious how close he was to reaching his limit at this point.

If nothing was broken by the time he returned, then Leo would be frankly impressed.

* * *

He made it through Saturday.

With nothing else to do, the two had gone to the university library to study, and complete several upcoming assignments. It was quiet, peaceful, and would hopefully keep Elliot's stress to a minimum.

Besides, when the entire grounds around the library were strictly smoke-free, it was a rather suitable location, and more or less kept his cravings at bay most of the day.

The issue arose when the evening came around, once again.

Every month, Elliot and Leo would meet with Oz, Lottie, Gilbert and Alice – all their friends from university – at one of the student bars. It was sort of a tradition for them, considering they all did different courses, but still enjoyed meeting up for a drink nonetheless.

Unfortunately for Elliot, however, drinking and smoking went hand-in-hand.

"I want to go home," he grunted the moment they arrived at the bar, the stench of alcohol assaulting his sense of smell, and subsequently triggering an insatiable urge to smoke. "Fuck, I want to smoke."

"You've done well so far. Don't ruin that now," Leo pointed out, grabbing his hand and leading him inside. "Now behave."

"Hmph."

Within a few seconds, it became obvious where the others were, Oz waving across the bar like a total idiot. Leo found it amusing; Elliot found it bloody irritating. Nevertheless, despite his weak protests, they still walked over, sitting down with the others. Immediately, Elliot let out a heavy sigh, groaning under his breath. The light rub on his shoulder from Leo was currently his only motivation to get through the night.

"What do you want?" Elliot grunted under his breath, fiddling with the hem of his jacket before pulling out his wallet. Anything to get away from having to interact.

"The usual," Leo answered, being instantly pulled into a conversation with Lottie.

Elliot nodded, knowing exactly what that meant. Leo had always been a "mom-drinker", as he called it, so all he drunk when they went out was wine. It was expensive, sure, but when Elliot spent £12.50 every two days on cigarettes, he didn't really have a leg to stand on when it came to financial concerns.

In the end, for himself, he ended up going with vodka and coke; a student classic which would hopefully get him drunk enough to actually _sleep_ tonight. Sure, the hangover would be pretty nasty, considering his number one cure for that was – surprise surprise – smoking, but before he could consider that, half the vodka and coke was gone.

The moment he returned to the table, dropping down beside the other and nestling up closer to Leo, Gilbert stood up, and spoke the words Elliot had just _dreaded_ hearing.

"I'm, um, going out for a quick smoke," he said, as he reached into his pocket. "Elliot, are you…?"

Elliot's glare at him was stern. Faltering, but stern. "I quit."

"Woah." Gilbert's eyes widened, his hand securing around the pack of cigarettes, but out of consideration for Elliot, he didn't pull them out from inside his pocket. "But… bloody hell… w-which attempt is this?"

With an exhausted, blatantly fed-up sigh, Elliot reluctantly answered, "Sixth. It's been five days, and I swear to fucking God I am going insane."

"Well, congratulations," Gilbert smiled weakly, and then sheepishly added, "It's better than my nine attempts. Anyway, good luck…"

A second later, Gilbert disappeared, and Elliot desperately wanted to go with him.

The pressure in his chest built up and up, yet he felt absolutely no relief whatsoever. He just needed to _smoke_ – he needed that godforsaken nicotine coursing through his blood. Who fucking _cared_ if it gave him lung cancer? At least he wouldn't have to keep up with the withdrawal and the cravings and the headaches for a second longer.

"Woah, Elliot! I didn't know you'd quit!" Oz gawked. "Congratulations!"

"Um, yeah…" Elliot stuttered. It was a false prophecy they held him up to. He had nothing to be congratulated for. He didn't _want_ to do this anymore. It was too difficult. Accepting defeat was a far more appealing option in his current state. _Anything_ to escape the irrefutable craving which stimulated a relentless itching under his skin. His head was throbbing; his chest continued to tighten.

There was absolutely no chance he would make it through this, and the tears which began to prick at his eyes should've given that away by now. "I, uh, I need to go to the bathroom."

Without turning back, Elliot slammed the drink back onto the table with much more aggression than intended, and took off for the bathrooms.

Leo, on the other hand, simply sighed, dropped his head in his hands, and reached a hand into his pocket. A second later, he pulled out the last cigarette Elliot had left, slamming it on the table. "Someone hide this."

"Gladly~" Lottie chuckled deviously, picking up the cigarette and pocketing it. "Why, are you expecting Elliot to strip you?"

"I wouldn't eliminate the possibility," Leo exhaled, biting back a smirk. It would seem inconsiderate if he appeared to be finding this amusing. "I'll give him a second to himself, though."

"I feel sorry for you…" Oz said quietly. "Has he been like this all week?"

"More or less. Ah, we're used to bickering a lot, you know? But this is next level." The noirette stood finally, with an audible sigh. "Alright, wish me luck."

With their sympathetic sighs boring into the back of his head, Leo made his way to the bathroom, tentatively pushing the door open with a deep breath.

Sure enough, Elliot stood at the sinks, having splashed cold water over his face. But the pained expression on his face and the light trembling in his hands implied it hadn't been of much help.

Tears brimmed in his eyes, and Leo felt another tug of sympathy.

"Fuck, sorry…" Elliot breathed out, turning back to Leo. But he refused to make eye contact. "These cravings are just so fucking… _difficult_ to handle. _Shit_."

Wordlessly, Leo stared at the other for a few moments. Then, both his arms engulfed him in a tight hug, one curling around his waist and the other wrapping around his shoulder.

Elliot tensed fleetingly, before melting into the hug. He sniffed, shutting his eyes, and trying to relax. The trembling didn't stop, but at least the tears did.

"You're doing really well," Leo whispered. "Keep at it."

"I can't," Elliot sobbed. He felt pathetic – just so _pathetic._ All he needed to do was _smoke,_ and no words could accurately convey how _desperately_ he needed a goddamn cigarette. "Fuck, this isn't-"

"Shh," Leo hushed, pulling one arm away and placing a finger over Elliot's lips. "You can, alright?"

Right before Elliot could protest, Leo replaced the finger with his lips, devotedly occupying Elliot's mouth.

"Be good, just for tonight," he said, as he pulled away for a passing second. "And then… heh, when we get home, I'll reward you, alright?"

* * *

Much to Leo's surprise – and with the exception of being somewhat moody whenever anyone spoke to him – Elliot actually behaved himself for the rest of the night.

Granted, he may have been _slightly_ (read: _very_ ) drunk, but at least he'd sleep. Leo had to admit, he was a bit disappointed that Elliot would most likely pass out the moment they got home. However, a well-rested Elliot was surely better than sex.

(Yeah, as if.)

It wasn't until past when the date changed that Elliot and Leo staggered back into their apartment, Elliot throwing the keys down and storming past the threshold. Leo laughed; he might have stridden into the room with a copious amount of stress evident, but the tripping over his own feet meant that he just couldn't take him seriously.

After pacing back and forth for a few more seconds, Elliot didn't even let Leo finish kicking his shoes off before he said, "Pull your pants down."

Leo's smirk froze. Judgemental, and questioning, all at once. "What?"

"I _said_ , pull your pants down!" Elliot yelped, stopping in his tracks, and sobering up. "I'm giving you a blow job."

"Uh…" Leo began to speak, but could not find the words to continue. Of course, he would never _refuse_ (seriously, why would he _ever_ want to turn down a blow job?) but it seemed so… abrupt, leaving him nothing short of perplexed. "Why?"

"Because if I don't put something in my mouth right now I swear to God I will jump out that fucking window and French-kiss my _brother_ just to suck the smoke out of his lungs!"

By the end of his little outburst, Elliot was a flustered, blushing, and _incredibly_ frustrated mess.

"Alright, sure," Leo exhaled, letting Elliot push him back against the door, and explore his mouth with his tongue, as he frantically undid the belt on his jeans.

Perhaps Elliot quitting smoking _did_ have benefits for both of them.

* * *

 _6 months later…_

 _Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap-_

"Elliot?"

"Tch, what?"

 _Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap-_

Leo sighed; he obviously hadn't gotten the hint. "If you tap that pen one more time I will break it."

"Oh…" Elliot immediately halted the pen tapping. "Sorry."

"When's your exam tomorrow?" Leo asked, placing his own pen down for a second, and sipping on the water beside him.

"9am start," Elliot answered tensely, staring at the book for a few seconds. Then, his eyebrows furrowing, he stood up, and stormed across the kitchen to the coffee machine. "I need coffee."

Since quitting smoking six months ago, much to Leo's surprise, Elliot hadn't picked up a single cigarette. Not once.

Admittedly, he had come close to relapsing on multiple occasions. But each time, Leo would stop him, remind him of the hell he went to in order to quit the first time, and then offer sex if he didn't smoke. An interesting method to most; at least it worked for them.

The addiction to nicotine hadn't gone unreplaced, however, Elliot having substituted one addiction for another: coffee. Oh well. At least coffee was easily accessible, a lot cheaper, didn't smell, and _wouldn't_ give him lung cancer. It was his vice to stress (he was always going to have a vice; that was unavoidable).

"Did you know," Leo spoke up from the table, "Six months ago today was when you decided to stop smoking."

Straight away, Elliot stopped what he was doing, turning around to meet Leo's gaze. "Huh," he murmured nonchalantly. "Interesting."

"It is, isn't it?" Leo chuckled. "Fufu, I'm still impressed you managed to quit. You were so irascible the first couple of weeks, I was certain you wouldn't succeed."

"Tch, it's _obvious_ why I succeeded," Elliot scoffed. "I did it for you, dumbass."

* * *

 _Fin._


End file.
